


Snow versus Cold

by Stariceling



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: M/M, Protectiveness, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow can't stand to see Hope struggling in the cold. Spoilers for chapter 7. Hints of Snow/Hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow versus Cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nanashi_o](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Nanashi_o).



> I don't think there's actually a place in the game story this could fit. This is for my friend Nanashi_o, who got me into the game in the first place. Since they're her favorites and I haven't seen much around for them.
> 
> This kind of comes from my amusement of Snow's long coat vs. Hope running around in shorts.

The most worrisome thing was how Hope wasn’t even putting up a fuss. No annoyed comments, no teasing for Snow’s overprotective nature, not even a whimper of protest. The only sound from his young friend was the occasional panting gasp that sounded like repressed pain and stung at Snow’s heart with fear.

He hadn’t been able to just keep watching sidelong as the boy struggled through snow deep enough to cover his bare calves with each step. Hope had tried so hard to be stoic about the whole thing, his arms locked around himself in an attempt to hold off the cold, his soft lips set in a stubborn line that said he wouldn’t give a word of complaint. Snow knew the boy would have kept struggling on until they reached their destination without asking for help, but he couldn’t just watch. He kept looking at that vulnerable skin and expecting it to turn blue with exposure.

When he couldn’t stand it anymore he had pulled Hope to him with a rough, “Come’re before ya freeze,” and bodily lifted his companion up against his chest. Before Hope could so much as ask what Snow thought he was doing he had whispered a more gentle command. “Hang on to me.”

There had been some hesitation before Hope did as he was told, but he didn’t question it. He took his cue from Snow and wrapped his legs around the older man’s waist. He should have been an uncomfortable burden, wet and cold and shivering against Snow’s chest, but it was enough that he didn’t protest and make Snow explain himself.

Snow had quickly closed his trench coat over Hope’s body, protecting him from the cold as much as possible. He tucked one hand under Hope’s butt through the coat to support him, wrapped the other around his back, and started walking again.

Slogging through the ice-crusted snow, keeping his eyes fixed on the low blur in the distance that meant shelter, that was all he could do. Snow was trying his absolute hardest not to think about anything else. He tried to ignore the tickle of soft hair under his chin, the warmth of Hope’s breath ghosting across his collarbone in a near-silent sigh, or the feeling when that body shifted even the tiniest bit against him.

It was quickly becoming torture. Hope was easy to carry, except for the part where he was a little bag of distractions every time he so much as breathed. Snow tightened his grip on Hope’s backside, shifting him higher before things could get bad, which only had the result of making Hope squeak quietly and squirm against Snow’s grip, reminding Snow too late that with where he was grabbing things were already bad.

This was not what he was supposed to be doing. He had promised to get Hope back home again safely, and even after he had accomplished that the duty to look after him didn’t fully disappear. He had sworn to himself more than anyone else he would protect the kid with everything he had. Even when Hope had hated him, when every time he had so much as looked at Snow his expression had been clouded with pain and resentment so sharp that he was obviously cutting himself on it, unable to express even an ounce of what he felt, Snow had at least known what he was doing. He would have spent every breath, every drop of blood and sweat in his body, just to atone, even if Hope hated him through every second of it.

As Hope grew stronger it became clear shoving him out of the way and doing everything for him wasn’t an option. The stubborn little punk would just as soon turn the tables and do the same to him! And there was no mistaking that Hope truly was getting stronger. He had found the strength to give Snow not even pitying forgiveness, but honest acceptance. He had looked so much older and wiser than his years at that moment.

Of course none of that stopped Snow from wanting to lash out at anything that threatened to put so much as a scratch on the boy, any more than it made him able to stand by and watch Hope shiver. There was just something about him. Looking into Hope’s eyes reminded him why he still wanted to fix things, to make something in this crazy, messed-up world better.

He could feel Hope lick his lips before letting out a little sigh, and it was a struggle not to respond by clutching him closer. In the end Snow could only keep his head down against the wind, his nose pressed unavoidably into the softness of Hope’s silvery hair. He was breathing Hope’s scent in with every breath, so close that he could feel Hope breathing against him in return. The warmth between their bodies was slowly building, and Snow told himself that was good. Anything to save Hope cold and discomfort was a good thing, right?

With Hope clasped against him, as warm and safe as possible, Snow strode onward, stretching his legs in an attempt to reach shelter even a second faster.


End file.
